The Beginning of Love
by BBC Shipper
Summary: Just some fluff about Shelagh talking to baby Angela! I promise no angst this time!


Shelagh eased into to the bed, her exhaustion seeming to seep out of every pore. She let her muscles finally relax, letting out a deep, quiet breath, trying not to wake a sleeping Patrick. Feeling her lay down next to him, even in his sleep he reached out to hold her. Shelagh knew they both slept best when they were by each other's side, held in one another's arms. But just as her eyes finally closed to get a few, blissful moments of sleep, the coughing started again. _This is like a nightmare_ , Shelagh first thought, then chided herself for not appreciating the dream of motherhood more. _Ups and downs are to be expected, but this is worth all the joy_ , she reminded herself. It was a reminder she was using almost as a mantra tonight, willing the words to be true, even if she didn't feel them. It was well past 3 o'clock in the morning and she wasn't sure how much more she could take.

But still she rose and crossed over to the cot of the sleeping infant. Angela was almost a year old now and life with her had finally settled into a blissful routine. It was a bit rocky at first, after all, Patrick and Shelagh were complete strangers to the newborn, but after a few months they had overcome the challenges of overnight feedings and were truly bonded with this life that had come into their home. Shelagh was thrilled when Angela began to recognize her voice as that of Mum and not a stranger, and had not stopped talking to her since.

Picking up her sweet, coughing bundle from the cot, Shelagh shushed her with soothing tones, trying to calm the sick infant. Hearing Patrick stir in the bed and not wanting to fully wake him, Shelagh carried Angela to the kitchen and gently rocked her as she prepared a bottle. Patrick might object, saying they didn't need to re-introduce overnight feeds after taking so long weaning her from them, but she didn't care. Her daughter needed comfort and Shelagh would do anything to provide it.

As they settled onto the settee, Angela alternating between drinking the bottle and coughing, Shelagh sighed again, this time not from exhaustion, but genuine love for her child. Yes, these nights were long, but the days with her baby were so very short. One glance at an ever-growing Timothy would remind her of that. "What story would you like to hear tonight, dear one?" Shelagh asked gently, knowing the calming effect her voice would have.

"Why don't I tell you the story of how your father and I fell in love? Have I told you that one? No?" Shelagh smiled, shaking her head, her mind full of remembrances of secret love. "I'm sure you'll hear plenty of stories as you grow up about our family, but I want you to hear the real version first" she began. "Some might tell you that your father stole me away from my life as a nun, that he seduced me or tricked me into wanting him. But whatever they may say I want you to know this: your father was ever the gentleman and he was not the reason I left the order. No. I blame that all on the National Health." Shelagh giggled with memories and Angela peered up into her mother's eyes with a curious gaze.

"You see, my vision changed and I needed a new prescription, and the National Health had to give me a new pair of specs. Auntie Trixie said it made my eyes wider than three coats of mascara and something about the upsweep of the frames. We had so much fun giggling and laughing and talking. It was there around that table with Auntie Trixie, Cynthia, and Chummy that I began to feel what another kind of sisterhood could be like. I had never had biological sisters, you know," Shelagh informed the now soothed infant. "When Sister Monica Joan fetched me for the Great Silence out of a conversation of joy, laughter, and love, I began to feel a dissention within my spirit. Not that I was angry with Sister Monica Joan, but it stirred within me a longing for more I didn't realize I had."

"You may be wondering what any of that has to do with your father," continuing even though Angela had now fallen asleep, "but it stirred within my soul a longing for something else. And _that_ led me to discovering the love I had for your father. That and a stolen puff of a Henley cigarette. Yes, the thing that brought me to your father was the National Health and cigarettes, what a combination for a nun!" Shelagh laughed gently, becoming lost in the remembrance of a difficult birth and a conversation that paved the way to a marriage.

"My love for you started before that cigarette, you know." Patrick's voice behind her startled Shelagh.

"I was trying not to wake you! You have rounds first thing and you need your rest." Shelagh replied, her last words punctuated by an extended yawn.

"You need rest too, my love, and I am Angela's father. I _can_ take some of the night shifts" he smiled at her. _She's so beautiful when she's tired_ , he thought to himself, then added aloud, "You're just as beautiful now as you were that night."

"What night?" Shelagh questioned, sleep beginning to overtake her, even as she still bounced Angela gently in her arms.

"The night I realized I was head over heels for you!" Patrick grinned. "I fell in love long before that cigarette, though I'll admit I didn't know it until that night before."

"So what led to your realization, then?" Shelagh was genuinely curious – for all their love for one another, they had known each other so little when they were wed, she constantly found new things about him she had never known.

"You getting slapped in the face was a slap in mine," he said soberly. "The moment Mrs. Carter smacked you as you tried to help me, I was filled with a rage I didn't know I had that anyone would hurt you. I found myself fiercely protective of you with no explanation, well, no explanation other than my profound love of you. And there you were, proving to me _why_ I was in love with you, calmly back to work with no regard to yourself, only the mother. And then, calmly and coolly proving you are the best midwife in Poplar by working with a sweet newborn girl until she let out that first beautiful cry – you were beautiful and I was smitten."

"I am not the best midwife in Poplar!" Shelagh proclaimed, embarrassed again at this proclamation her husband insisted on continually making. "Really, Patrick, you embarrass me. All of the sisters and nurses do great work!"

"Yes, my dear, but none of them are you!" Patrick leaned over to give his wife a kiss. "How I longed to give you one of those that morning instead of a cigarette. But instead, I had to watch you cycle away."

"But instead, you had to wait just a little bit longer, and now we're here together and our family is complete." Shelagh smiled first at Patrick, then at Angela. "I think she's finally asleep for good" she whispered, getting up slowly. The three made their way back to the bedroom for what little sleep was left for them before the day had to begin again.

"Yes," Patrick whispered in reply, "now my family – and my life – is complete."


End file.
